Free the Heart
by CivilleM
Summary: Thranduil, the Elvenking of the Woodland realm, longs for freedom from the trappings of his throne. What will happen when a strange and charismatic elleth crosses his boarders with a hoard of angry orcs on her heels? A thrilling story of an elleth who loved and lost, but continues to fight. A spin off story based on my previously published one shot, "Freedom Through Confinement".
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Ruler. Leader. Emperor. Highness. Majesty. _King._

These words, bitter to the tongue; dutiful, demanding, dictating. They mean no difference to that of a royal who wanted no part of royalties.

The throne; a torture chair designed to _look_ inviting. Like a mouse trap, waiting to snap it's pray.

The crown; a muzzle of responsibilities. It constricts the mind, fogs the brain; only thoughts of duty may one who wears it think.

Who should long for such a prison? Do the confines of politics look so tempting?

Though.. when put in this position, why not take advantage of it?

Thranduil sat, no, _perched_ upon his regal throne, legs crossed lazily in a bafflingly poised way. His arms stretched along the length of their designated rests, fingers thrumming absentmindedly on the ends. He was the literal epitome of regality; after all, he aimed for that. Many hours he spent, only sitting and doing nothing in particular. What was a king to do? " _Whatever I want._ " he mused. No, he knew otherwise. A king stays where he may be found, should trouble arise. Certainly traveling outside of his duties was out of the question. " _Those leisures are not permissable."_ he thought. Then a bored sigh and the switching of his crossed leg.

 _Perhaps a trip to the shooting range_ , he considered. Then he waved that notion away. How many times had he visited out of sheer boredom? Too many to count at least. There comes a point when archery becomes less of a challenge and more of a bore.

 _What else?_ He though. _The healing ward?_ No, Many things could the king handle, but he had seen much war; many wounds and countless plagues. Why would he wish to needlessly witness more?

"Your Majesty," a voice made him glance up, moving no more than his eyes. Upon realizing that one of his young guards stood before him, he lifted his head from his hand. "Orcs have been spotted along the eastern boarder." the young elf explained, working to hide his anxiety. Thranduil stood, casting off his outer robe and descending the stairs. _"This is likely to be a small trifle."_ he thought as he left towards the trouble. He felt no need to fit into his armor, for the young guard seemed to have come in haste and no thought. _"Yes I'd wager they will have slain them all by the time I arrive."_ he thought. He was correct in his assumption. Very few survived the wrath of the forest guard; the wreaking stench of orc blood wafted throughout the breeze.

"I trust that this has been dealt with?" he asked his captain, voice as smooth as silk. The elf nodded, but before the King could turn to leave, the captain spoke again.

"My King, there is an elleth. She arrived just before the orcs, warning us of their imminent attack. I fear.. if she had not come, the outcome would have been different." he explained. Thranduil's expression remained unchanged, save for the quirk of his eyebrow.

"I wish to speak with her." he said simply. The King was confused, though he would not admit it, not fully. Perhaps his day would prove more interesting than he originally anticipated.

As he sat atop his throne, legs crossed as usual, Thranduil wondered what this elleth might be like. Why did she go out of her way to warn the forest guard? Or _was_ it out of her way? How did she know of the orcs? Could she be an ally? Many questions swirled in his mind, forming a concoction of impatience and anxiety. " _Be patient."_ he chided himself. His answers would come soon enough.

The Elvenking's keen eyes soon caught sight of two guards escorting his guest up the walkway to his throne. The clink of the guard's armor and weaponry was harsh against the soundless padding of her footsteps. The smoothness with which she walked nearly rivaled his own grace. Her nearly ankle length, caramelized blonde hair caught light as it bounced in time with her stride. If the king were not who he was, he may have admitted to being rather taken by her appearance.

"My King." she dipped her head reverently. Her voice flowed sweetly, easily filling the open space around his seat. In every sense, she carried herself like royalty. Who was this elleth that behaved like so? Thranduil asked exactly that.

"Where do you come from? Why are you here?" he asked, attempting to hide his utter curiosity. His gaze was attentive as she parted her lips to speak. In confident elvish, she replied,

"I am Amaniel. I claim no home, for I have traveled many years, and be cast from countless towns." she began. The King's ears perked at the fluent native tongue she spoke. In truth, it was to intent to display her frequent involvement in elvish culture. She was no outcast. "I came to warn your guard of the band of orcs. They performed admirably on such short notice."

"Do not flatter me; it will not lessen your punishment should you cross me." Thranduil waved her off easily.

"That was not my intent, My Lord. I ask you simply let me pass through. I mean no harm." she asked, her tone of voice falling.

"What reason do I have to trust an elleth who foretold an orc ambush? You give me more to be suspicious of." his eyes narrowed as he stood, beginning a steady stride down the stairs. Her blue gaze followed him the entire way down. "You say you do not settle? Remain here in my land. I would not send you off so easily." his smooth words filled the elleth with dread, her stomach twisting into knots.

"That may not be wise, good King. Trouble seems to follow in my steps." she frowned, meeting his eyes.

"And that, Lady Amaniel, is why I do not trust you." Thranduil half smirked, looking to one guard. "Give her living quarters near my hall. She will be our guest."

Amaniel's head spun with worry and regret as she followed the guards back down the walkway. She should not have come to Mirkwood. Taking advantage of the Forest Guard's skill and numbers was in no way noble. Yet here she was, lying to the Elvenking of the woodland realm, pretending to be of worthy conquest. _"I'm only guilty of selfishness."_ she though, vainly trying to justify her decisions to herself. Even that thought made her guiltier. She settled into her nicely made room, dropping her satchel onto a chair with an ungraceful thud. Every inch of her lither form ached with fatigue. Her long blonde hair was knotted and frayed; it easily caught onto branches in the forest. The elleth sighed, finding a brush on the dresser against one wall. She gathered her long tresses in one hand, carefully brushing them, working her way up as she went. A steady rap on her door made her pause.

"Yes?" she asked, craning her neck in a cautious guard.

"I am Lanairen. The King sent me to wait on you." a soft voice answered from beyond the wooden door. She gave her mission to enter, smiling softly as the young she-elf slid in and dipped her head.

"You needn't be so shy. Whatever the King has made of me is likely an exaggeration." Amaniel grinned, turning back to the mirror.

"Allow me then, My Lady." the servant quickly took over her task, carefully pulling through the long locks. The Elvenking's guest watched her reflection, wandering in the confines of her thoughts. _"It seems he is keeping me a well treated prisoner."_ she mused, carefully examining Lanairen.

"You are of the Forest Guard, correct?"

The young elleth's eyes snapped up to meet her's in the mirror.

"Were you trying to keep it from me?" Amaniel snickered. "I noticed your archer's callouses as soon as you took the brush from my hand." she explained. Lanairen sighed, averting her intent gaze.

"You are not wrong." she admitted.

"So he wants me guarded? I would've been much happier had he simply sent an elfling sitter"

Lanairen watched the elder elleth intently, secretly impressed by her observance. That was not a skill taught in guard training; it seemed very enticing and useful to her now.

"If you don't mind my asking, where did you learn such a skill?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her tongue.

"I spent a good many years in the company of Hobbits. Such tedious creatures they are; miniscule details mean more than one might think." she explained.

 _"_ _Hobbits? Of all races to commune with?"_ Lanairen repulsed at her words. The more elves that seemed to meet Amaniel, the more many of them perplexed at her. She spoke of many different varying creatures, of many different lands. _Could she never find rest?_ They all wondered.

"Of what value is rest when you can adventure?"

These words, optimistic and cheery; Amaniel liked to think she lived by them. The rush of running, the thrill of a hit mark; the fear of never knowing your journey's end. And could she know of what she sought? No place she saw, nor creature she met seemed to draw her in near enough. Like an elfling receiving a toy for Yule, only to grow bored of it the first of the new year.

 _Insatiable_ was the only word that suited to her, and she would not deny it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _"_ _Amaniel! Lady Amaniel!" a young nymph called out to the elleth, stumbling over her own feet as she chased after her. She turned, looking down to the blonde, curly headed child._

 _"_ _What is it Neledine?" she inquired, her features holding curiosity. When the little nymph caught up to her, she wrung her hands tightly together._

 _"_ _I- well I was wondering... could you teach me to use a bow?!" she blurted, watching the elleth, anxiously awaiting her response. Her eyebrows shot up at the girl's unexpected request._

 _"_ _A bow? Well, I would, but I fear your small hands could hardly wrap around one, much less pull it back."_

 _Neledine's big eyes saddened to a shade of disappointment. Amaniel smiled sympathetically, kneeling to the young nymph's level._

 _"_ _Have you ever made a crown of field blooms? Like the one the elder nymph's wear?" she asked, hoping to peak her interest. She shook her head a few times, looking at her bare toes._

 _"_ _Would you like me to teach you? It's not archery, but you could make one for your mother." she suggested, lifting her chin with a single finger. The nymph paused._

 _"_ _Okay." her bright smile brought an equal one to Amaniel's lips._

The Elvenking, alone and solitary, sat in his study; he was looking over an ancient map of what was once Greenwood. He would do so, every once in a while, to remember what Mirkwood used to be. Beautiful, healthy a safe haven for all elf-kind. The days of Oropher shone and flourished, they brought much happiness. Now, Thranduil was left with only scraps to protect. The mutant spiders seemed to hold more reign over the woodlands than he; so the King would think on his gloomier days. Sighing, he removed the weights from the corners of the map, letting it bounce into it's usual roll. He laid it in a drawer and slid the door shut with a snap. His mind was ridden with thoughts of that she-elf. He did feel the slightest guilty for confining her in the palace. Valar, if image was no concern of his, he would've asked to leave with her!

He decided that a stroll would do him good, so he left into the hall, his golden robe trailing behind him. Each of his steps were light and unhurried. He knew no destination, only letting his sightless feet guide him. Corner after corner he turned, and after what he hadn't counted to be about the thirteenth pivot, his keen eyes landed on his guest. She stood still, looking over the balcony, her hands folded and back straight. Her caramel hair fell mostly over her back, save for the sections that framed her face and exposed her pointed ears. The crown of her head was decorated with intricate, traditional plaits that rivaled a silversmith's finest work.

"Do you make a habit of staring at you guests?" she asked, gaze unmoving. Thranduil allowed a crease between his brows as he strode forward. She tested his patience.

"How was your night? Was Lanairen good to you?" he inquired, overlooking her snide remark. Amaniel nodded, her crystaline eyes flitting to follow a bird as it soared through the sky.

"How long has she been a member of the guard?" she asked with a faint smirk. It did not go unnoticed by the King.

"Several hundred years. You are very observant." he commented, looking from the many flets in the trees to her. She tilted her head slightly.

"No, simply not ignorant."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at her, visibly tightening his jaw.

"But very insolent." he muttered.

"Really?" she snickered. After a moment of tense silence, she turned to him, apologetically dipping her head. "I mean no disrespect, My King. I was only jesting. It's been many years since I returned to the woodland realm. I feel lighthearted among my kin." She explained. At her words, Thranduil lifted a brow.

"You are quite to chide yourself." he commented. Amaniel paused silently for a moment, not exactly understanding the meaning behind his words.

"Would you rather do so for me?" she asked honestly, not considering the implications behind her question. He couldn't help his twitch of a grin at her, which she did not miss.

"Why do you laugh at me?" she puzzled, earning an actual snicker.

"Your boldness could easily be mistaken for impudence." he smiled lightly at her from the corner of his eye.

"Perhaps that is why only children take a liking to me." she mused.

"Oh?" he asked. She nodded.

"There was a young nymph in particular who became very attached to me. Her name was Neledine. She never did regard her words much." The thought of her brought a fond smile to the elleth's lips. The two elves stood in silence for a short while, simply watching the activity among Mirkwood's inhabitants.

"The council will be meeting tonight. You should be present." Thranduil explained, leading her to nod reluctantly. She never did like polotics. "They expect your reason for coming to Mirkwood, as do I. I suggest you prepare your explanation." and he left with elleth to herself. She frowned deeply. He knew she wasn't only passing through, just as well as she knew she couldn't get away with that excuse. Her day suddenly became dreadful by the utterance of one sentence. With a heavy sigh, Amaniel let her eyes trail over the forest floor. Her vantage point showed a great deal of the beauty enclosed by Mirkwood's gates. Though it's colors were muted, and little light shone naturally, the elven civilization seemed to sparkle. Perhaps thanks to it's inhabitants?

 _"_ _What makes a forest is not it's foliage, but those who keep it alive."_

Amaniel recalled the voice of a wise elder she once knew in her younger years. Before Greenwood became Mirkwood, in the second age. The old elleth had long since traveled to the undying lands, but Amaniel always remembered her clearly. She looked up to her in many ways, and every syllable of the elder's advice was taken to heart. Often would her words cross Amaniel's mind, especially in moments like this one.

 _"_ _I suppose I can only tell the truth, and hope to Valar they might hear my honesty."_ She dreaded admitting her intentions to the council. None before them had taken kindly to her, and she expected no different this time. At least previously she'd been given time to learn the people and gain their favor, but now she could only rely on wit and her choice of words. When the hour of the council arrived, Amaniel was escorted by Lanairen to the meeting hall. The young guard's steps were sure and confident, in great contrast to the royal guest's. Her feet were unfamiliar with their path, though they knew their imminent destination. Still, Amaniel strove fore a graceful composure as she entered the room. All eyes fell on her as the great heavy doors thudded shut behind her. She smiled in kind to the many elders who sat neatly along the table, the Elvenking at the head.

"Lady Amaniel," he gestured her to the seat on his right. A trifle lower than his was the chair; still, it loomed above the many which seated the council members. She glided over, giving her best effort to appear confident.

"Our guest is here to explain her intentions, in full, to the council." Thranduil announced simply, turning to her in expectation. The she-elf tucked her skirt neatly beneath her as she perched onto the chair. " _In elvish.."_ she decided, taking a calming, preperatory breath.

"I came seeking refuge from the orcs that tailed me. Their numbers were too great for me to fend off alone." she began, looking over the elves steadily. Immediately, whispers of speculation broke out among them, and Amaniel wondered if they truly bothered to hide their conversation, or only meant to taunt her. She spoke up.

"I admit to taking advantage of the forest guard."

Conversation grew louder at her confession. Words like, "She put us all in danger!" or, "What kind of trouble could the selfish wraith cause to draw so many orcs after her?". Amaniel wanted to cover her ears and hide from their suspicious eyes. One elf stood, looking at her pointedly.

"Why did the orcs chase you?" he asserted over the noise. Immediately everyone silenced. The she-elf swallowed thickly, clasping her hands in her lap.

"My blood is cursed, by a dark sorcerer."

Thranduil watched her intently from his high vantage point, his expression unchanging. His gues only seemed to become more interesting by the second, and he wondered how she came about a sorcerer in the first place. What could she have done to incur one's wrath? Questions swirled in his mind like a starving, one-winged vampire. Still, he willed himself to remain quiet and let the meeting unfold on its own.

"I would only pass through so Mirkwood will not be endangered, should you allow it." Amaniel nearly pleaded, an edge of desperation in her voice.

 _"_ _She should be punished for her crimes against Mirkwood!"_

 _"_ _Get her far away from here! Orcs could be on our boarders as we speak!"_

The king sat silently in thought. To a point, the council was right to want her punishment. But he understood it; how it felt to be faced with death. What can an elf do but seek help? She seemed to have no want for his kingdom's destruction. What punishment could he give for her hope to survive? The Forest Guard was fully capable.

"Silence," he said smoothly, leading the room to an immediate hush. He looked over to the elleth, studying her expression. Calm and composed; yet beyond her eyes was a guilt that rivaled any punishment he could order. Her guilt would suffice.

"She will leave with an escort to the edge of the forest." he decided.

"My king, you believe her crime should go unpunished?" One nearest to the head spoke up. A younger elf, wearing the guard uniform.

"She punishes herself, Captain." he paused, glancing away for a fraction of a second. "You shall be her escort; I will rely on your ability to lead her safely." Thranduil stood from his seat. "The council is dismissed."


End file.
